


Decisions

by kikibug13



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: Attempted Murder, F/M, Missing Scene, Poison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 16:06:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/599635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikibug13/pseuds/kikibug13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Londo decided that Timov was going to be the wife he remains married to... but what about <i>her</i> decision?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Decisions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amatara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatara/gifts).



> Have a very Merry Christmas! I hope this is a little bit what you had in mind.
> 
> Many, many thanks to my beta!

Of _course_ , when Londo decided she was his choice of wife to keep, he assumed that she would be all right with that. Assumed that she should be pleased and honored and grateful (which she was, a little, not that she would ever admit that to him, or anyone else, for that matter) and that, of _course_ she would be Londo Mollari's only remaining wife where there used to be three. Because, of course, it was only his decisions that mattered. Well. It would serve him right if she were to divorce _him_ , when she returned home. 

The thought occurred to her as she was trailing after the other two down the bridge, but it was the first one since he made his choice known to them that made her chin rise up with the kind of pride she should have been feeling in the first place. (Instead of this. Nonsensical, flattered, _adolescent_ pleased surprise that she had been, well, trapped in until now. Londo had power over them, over _her_ , yes, and the Centauri society was very limiting, that way. But, now, she had power over him, too. Power that the three of them never had, not singly and not when all combined. Not that they'd ever been in sufficient accord for long enough to take significant action. 

Oh, _this_ part, she enjoyed. And the intensity with which Daggair was glaring at her. Timov didn't gloat, exactly, but her lips did curl into a smirk. Londo making the most absurd choice was _not_ reason to be pleased. Having power to show him where his place was? That was better. 

Timov was finding that she liked actually _having_ power to wield, as opposed to the pursuit of it. Not merely the privilege that her life so far had grudgingly granted her (and which she had alternated between accepting fully and skirting as much as possible), but the actual power... Like the current situation, holding Londo's public standing in her hands, the way he'd held the same for all three of them. 

Or holding his life in her hands. She thought back to what they had all done (not that she'd _spoken_ her agreement to the plan. And, yet.) and wondered how much worse Daggair's - and Mariel's, for that matter - hatred would have been, if they knew. Better this way. Daggair would never not be dangerous, but if pieces moved in certain directions, it would be the pretty one that Timov would be watching out for. Always the quiet ones, that saying seemed to translate well across the galaxy. Not that Mariel was exactly _quiet_ , of course, and sharing a house with her and Londo some nights had been a trial. She would still take Daggair any day, with her snotty _breeding will tell_. She was predictable, in her nobility. Mariel, in her pursuit of power, was far less so. 

Breeding will tell. Hah.

Oh, they all _thought_ they knew about her breeding. What it was like to be born near poverty, among people who'd spent generations preparing for a great _coup_ , a turn of fate that happened extremely seldom among the Centauri. And never, as far as she knew, randomly. She had been her family's hope in some ways, their one golden ticket to solidify what so many years of work had accomplished. And she was a disappointment for the ambition of her family. Not a beauty, not a politician by disposition. She was clever - nobody could doubt _that_ \- and definitely a true daughter of the Empire, but her heart wasn't in it. Nobody asked where it was (they assumed she had fallen in love with somebody, the fools), only pushed her harder and further, to make sure she would be a proper match for whoever was a good alliance. 

Well, she hadn't been. She had been the worst possible match for a politician with _several_ arranged marriages, and she certainly had been a poor match for Londo. Ah, the slimy, sneaky, rambunctious youth that he had been. She'd thought accomplishing her goal - _their_ goal, really - and becoming a wife might give her some peace with her studies, but, no, of course not. There was five _times_ as much politicking, enclosed within the walls of a single household, than she had seen as a young woman in her family's house. And then there was Londo himself, who never knew whether he wanted to be a husband or a bachelor, and took the most of both until he gave up on trying to get along with all or any of his wives. Oh, Timov was almost going to miss the backstabbing days - but then, who wouldn't miss the last twenty years of her life? When they hadn't been necessary at all? 

Yes, being married to Londo _had_ brought her status. Money, too, for all he complained about their spending it... (Well. They did to that. And now it would be far less entertaining, on her own.) Attention, luxury, security. It had brought her sexual attention that she had been prepared for but not at all eager to receive. If not for Londo's conscientiousness, she would have willingly left all of that to Mariel. Or her and Daggair, whenever the oldest of them deigned to take interest in that aspect of matrimony. It was all so... _dirty_. But Timov was expected to perform, and she did. Even if biting ended up involved.

The fool had _deserved_ that, after the humiliation he had put them all through, too, in public, no less. And while Mariel was too, unfaithful herself to bother, and Daggair attempted to put herself above such manners, it was _rude_ , and inappropriate, and he _had_ to feel some of the repercussions. Other than what Mariel got up to, of course, that couldn't have been easy on him. As much as he knew, which was far less than what his wives did. And for all their conniving ways, Timov prided herself in usually staying slightly ahead of them, where information was concerned. Sometimes only by a hair's breadth, but ahead. Which is why being the last to know that Londo had summoned them to chose which one not to divorce and get rid of the others grated so 

She knew, for example, exactly what ties - and promises - Daggair still maintained with her family, even twenty years after her marriage. And was aware of the acquaintance that Mariel had cultivated with the filthy, disgusting _Narn_ that Londo seemed so fond of yanking about, whom this place was giving illusions of grandeur. Yet there was _Londo_ , the Ambassador of the great Centauri empire, rubbing shoulders with such trash. And Mariel, following right along. Some days? Timov did not truly understand most people. Not that they explained, either, at least not to her.

Nothing ever was just _given_ , after all. If she wanted understanding, she had to work on it herself. That was another reason why Londo's decision threw her so badly. It was incomprehensible that it was in her favor, even with his backhanded answer. That neither of the two women who were trying to crowd her, now that they were on board, had heard. Small favors.

Timov smiled her thanks to Mariel, holding the crystal glass the other woman had handed her between the tip of her fingers, and most certainly did not _sigh_ as she headed to her 'cabin' on the jump-ship. Yes, she had the power to reject him the way he rejected Mariel and Daggair, and would have her, too, if the Emperor had not insisted that he keep one of them. The downside to such a gesture - well, aside from the obvious loss of status, and the necessity to once again accustom herself to a different lifestyle, possibly with her parents (she shuddered inwardly) - would be that it would be assumed to be one of solidarity. She could not have herself be associated with that, no more than it would do for people - especially Londo - to know what she had done for him. And... even more so, she would exercise all her power in one go, and then what would she have left? Other than Londo Mollari as an enemy which, for all the dislike of him, she would not call him under the present circumstances.

... now, this, she was loath to admit, was something she wanted to avoid. At most costs.

On the other side of the scale... now she would be the only wife. The one who would have to answer when Londo came home relaxed and in the _mood_ , the one who would have to take care of the entirety of the obligations that the wife of somebody as powerful as Londo had. And without the distractions for the public eye that the other two presented.

She snorted quietly, setting the small glass by the sink. Then focused on it.

Then there was the option of drinking what was inside this. It was likely to be fairly thorough, Timov suspected. And would leave the sticky situation to somebody else to deal with.

The thought was entertained for a moment, a still, crystal moment when it was vaguely appealing. Then it was dismissed with a snort, and the contents of the glass poured out, and Timov washed her hands, too, for good measure. She was not going to win over her enemies in this manner, but she was not going to let anyone win against her this way, either. 

No. She was going to _be_ the wife that these two clearly couldn't. And maybe, just maybe, find enough peace in the estates - _her_ estates, now, oh, she could get used to the sound of that, too! - to go after her childhood dream. Scholarship. Even a little. And she could find a way to both make Londo sorry and make him never regret his choice, oh, she liked the challenge of _that_.

And, for now, she was going to be entertained and kept on her toes on the trip home. 

That was going to be good practice, she was sure.


End file.
